


Spring Fever

by LelithSugar



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blindfolds, Bunny Outfits, Butt Plugs, Domestic Fluff, Dress Up, Established Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Furniture abuse, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Roxy Is a Good Bro, Sex Games, Sex Toys, Sex on Furniture, Shameless Smut, Smut, Teasing, Valentine's Day, hoppyhartwin, hoppyhartwin2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:07:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22808365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LelithSugar/pseuds/LelithSugar
Summary: In which Roxy saves the day, Eggsy surprises Harry with a fantasy come to life,  and nobody cares about the furniture.Totally unapologetic porn with bunny ears on it.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 46
Kudos: 195





	Spring Fever

**Author's Note:**

> Spring Fever, because... spring... bunnies... hop - look, the working title of this was 'hop to it' and you almost got that.  
> I'd apologise for this being late but I won't. Your author's gotta get theirs too, you know, Valentines is a busy weekend, and hey, The Secret Service was on E4!
> 
> #hoppyhartwin and #hoppyhartwin2020 was mostly a twitter effort - go check out the INCREDIBLE art over there including the glittery wonder by @hanbambam that inspired this piece and a deluge of genius from the incredible @kingsman_hell as usual. Thanks to you two in particular for the support with this one. Hope you enjoy.

Spring Fever

What does one buy the man who has everything?

No, that's not rhetorical, it's a legit question and if you've got any answers you should hit Eggsy up because he literally goes through this every fucking time.

He’s done rare butterflies and butterfly related collectibles. He’s looked for the thoughtful stuff… you know, first editions of favourite books, unusual memorabilia, and whilst they're comfortably off - minted by his standards - those are still out of reach unless he embarks on some sort of heist. If a baddie had one he might be tempted to liberate it, but still.

So it comes to this, on every gift giving occasion: gestures, deeds. Taking Harry to nice places and showering him with affection and blowjobs - though it's not like either of them go long enough without anything for it to be a special occasion treat, if they can help it - and Harry specifically asked not to be whisked away anywhere for Valentine’s day this year because away missions have been more or less back to back lately and it would, in his own words, be a rare treat to plonk his arse on a sofa and actually know what timezone it's in for a while. 

Harry knows to expect ‘ _ a fantasy thing’  _ because you can’t surprise a spy - shouldn't try - unless you let them know you're going to do it in advance. So he sits happily in one of the dining table chairs, blindfolded, his hands gently tied behind the seat back. He could get free in 0.8 of a second, but clearly has no interest in even thinking about it. 

Christ, he’s lovely. Eggsy doesn’t know where he gets off thinking  _ he’s _ a present for _that_.

No, Eggsy gets it, he really does: as fluke would have it they got together dead on the year Harry was twice Eggsy’s age, and he’s the one who came fresh from the military still fit enough to vault straight back into the gymnastics; he knows how all that looks on paper and that he’s not the back of a 507 bus. Have people looked at Harry though? Actually looked? The amber-chocolate eyes...albeit hidden now behind a black silk blindfold - a proper one, from a really swanky sex shop Eggsy found himself in for way too long trying to put the rest of this together. The straight chin. The way he carries a suit. The way he carries  _ himself,  _ that stride that never looks gangly but never looks pompous either, just sort of… beautifully commanding. And his body…. Harry isn’t fit for a man his age. He’s fit full stop. Lean, yes, but like a runner: his stamina’s legendary, his muscles all fully defined and showing nicely through the thin white shirt he’s wearing. No undershirt. It’s  _ almost  _ like he  _ knew  _ he was headed for lovingly being tied to a chair.

He’s been sitting there for an hour, bless him. Eggsy had warned him he would have to sit tight through some preparations but he wasn’t expecting to need to call in reinforcements...

_ "Rox. I'm gonna need a hand." _

_ "What ki… you'll forgive me if I ask what bit of your Valentines night in with Harry requires my involvement before I put my glasses feed on." _

There was no need for the note of hysteria in her voice really, and Eggsy had made sure the first thing she saw was his hand ineffectual grabbing over his back to reach the lacings of the corset.

_ “I thought they was gonna be the string but they’re silky ribbons and they keep slippin’ outta my hands, and if I pull too hard they wrinkle up and look shit.” _

She giggled, but it was a flattering, fond sort of giggle, and she was on her motorbike and round in ten minutes flat.

_ “What would you do without me, eh?”  _ Eggsy felt the squeeze at his waist as the corset pulled tight and held, surprisingly, but it’s well made. Roxy fiddled aound and the lacing seemed to get looser for a second before it tightened just-so.  _ "How do you know I don’t have plans of my own?" _

_ E _ ggsy got distracted from admiring himself - Harry loves a silly get up, and this one was just well done enough to look good - to level a finger at Roxy in the mirror. 

_ "Because I asked you yesterday and your literal words were 'Deliveroo and my Lovehoney order'. Which is on me, by the way, for the favour. The takeaway, not the… I dunno, I’ll shout you some… batteries or whatever.” _

_ "Thank god you don’t sleep with women. Where is he?" _

_ "In the dining roomDONTGOINTHERE-!" _

_ "I am not even going to ask, let alone go in there."  _ She did a flourishy thing with her hands, and the white shiny bow sat perfectly above Eggsy’s fluffy white tail: a sparkling pompom sewn at the top of the g string, poised right at the top of the crack of his arse. He didn't really want her to look any closer - not like she'd never seen his bare bum but the thong felt more revealing than nudity, somehow, without even touching on what was going on underneath. _ "There. Is that about right?" _

_ "Yeah. Could go a bit tighter but I want to be able to move and-" _

_ "Well yes exactly."  _

Roxy put her jacket back on and zipped up as Eggsy admired the full effect of his outfit, from his stockinged toes to the hairband he adjusted to sit just at a slight angle. He picked his glasses up from the chair and tried them with it as well, to see if the accent of seriousness made it even filthier, but he couldn’t make his mind up.

_ "What do you reckon, glasses on or off?" _

_ "Off. They're too much with the ears, and we don't want a repeat of the Harry's-balls-broadcast incident." _

_ "It was my balls, actu- '" _

_ "I cannot stress to you quite strongly enough how much difference that doesn't make. Glasses off." _

And so Eggsy makes sure the only verb that could be applied to him walking into the room is ‘sashay’, although he knows Harry can’t see him: he’ll have his eyes closed in case the blindfold slips. He likes surprises when he knows they’re nice ones. Eggsy’s carrying an absurd combination of items on a silver tray: a martini, a tumbler of rum and coke, a pump dispenser of lubricant, two bottles of water, a packet of tissues - like fucking Kim’s Game, because it’s literally the most practical way to get them into the room, it’s not like he’s got pockets - and closes the door. 

“Here I am. We’re playing a game today, Harry.” 

Harry’s lip moves just slightly at the sound of his name. He’s used to being babes, darling, love,  _ H _ , whatever endearment comes out of Eggsy’s mouth, and proper names only seem to come out when it’s serious or sexy. He obviously likes the sound of it.

“Sounds wonderful. And what game might that be? Are you going to tell me?”

Eggsy closes close enough that he knows Harry can sense where he is, before bending to whisper so close his lips touch Harry’s ear.

"Guess which one of your fantasies I'm dressed up as, and when you guess, I'll let you see."

Harry's eyebrows pop above the blindfold and a pleased smile breaks out on his face.

"One of the ones I've told you about, presumably. That narrows it down."

“Oh, don’t start with all that.” Harry’s well aware he’s only got to mention he likes something and Eggsy’s falling over himself to google it, to work out how to make the man’s dreams into sweaty reality, so he reckons he only says that to get a bit of the power back. Which means Eggsy is already doing really, really well.

He swings a leg over, and sits down on Harry’s lap.

That’s nice. Sure, they had a quickie before they went to bed last night, slept unusually close being the first night back and all, but way too much of today’s been at work and all told Eggsy’s grateful for a nice bit of heavy, promising body contact.

“You could be naked, or just dressed how you’ve been all day? Sitting like this, you’re already a fantasy. “

“Oh, smooth. Nice try. No dice."

"Am I limited on my number of guesses?"

"Nah." Eggsy hasn’t really thought this bit through, but really he should have counted on Harry wanting to play along. "But I'm not taking any of it off until you've seen the full effect so you're gonna wanna get there sooner rather than later." He grinds down against Harry's lap to make his point, and it’s lovely to feel that hardness already considering Harry can’t even see him. Means the game isn’t too silly to be having the desired effect.

Harry leans in to kiss where his lips land, which is on Eggsy's chin, and instead of trying to kiss him properly Harry uses that to get his bearings, feeling with the top of his nose along Eggsy’s freshly shaven jaw and down his neck. He hesitates at the bit where he'd expect a shirt collar to be, and then again at the place a t-shirt neck would sit, and then carries on to lay a kiss on the top of Eggsy’s bare shoulder. 

"Not a fireman, then."

Christ, should he have gone for something a bit more butch? Harry's tastes are the full rainbow, for sure, but that doesn't mean you can’t be up the wrong end of it for a particular day.

_ Stick the landing, Unwin.  _

It's all going fine. Better than fine. Harry's grateful mouth brings up tingles over Eggsy's collarbone and back up his neck. Harry knows there aren't any clues there: he’s just enjoying lapping the body powder he doesn't yet know is sparkly off Eggsy's skin. 

"What do you taste of?"

"You tell me. It's meant to be cinnamon cookie dough."

"Well, it’s lovely."

The way the glitter in the powder shines off Harry's lips and the tip of his nose is fucking lovely. And he hasn't got a fucking clue.

The further he gets down without finding clothes, the slower Harry goes, and Eggsy can feel how much he’s enjoying it in the hungry touches of his mouth, slow grind of his hips. He pushes down against that, rubs them together just as Harry’s lips find the trim at the top of the corset.

"Oh. Oh, I say."

"Why do you get posher when you're horny?” 

"Behaving like a gentleman under pressure is an important skill.” He doesn’t dispute the ‘horny’ in the least, which is gratifying. “Otherwise who knows what you’d come out with, with your lover dressed as… is this a cocktail dress? Are you in drag, darling?”

“Not exactly.” Is it? Kinda, he guesses, but it doesn’t feel like drag without heels and make up and Eggsy tucks his toes against Harry’s shins so he can feel that his feet are bare… well, shoeless, and he doubts even Harry can make out nylon through trousers. Harry makes a lost little noise against his chest.  So Eggsy takes control for a moment, cupping Harry’s jaw and pulling him up to face him for a kiss, trailing his fingers up to brush over Harry’s searching lips. It feels good - a hot thrill - having that sort of control, seeing the way Harry responds to being teased like this… it’s how he knows he’s doing it right. 

"You're wearing gloves? Satin ones. My, that's… rather wonderful." On reflection, it is not the slightest fraction of a surprise that's the sort of thing that turns Harry on. Eggsy doesn’t have to take them off, he guesses. Might be kind of nice if they got messy and ruined. “But not a dress. I’m rather stumped without the bottom half, I’m afraid.”

Eggsy stands, turns around and straddles Harry’s legs the other way. This is the bit he’s glad nobody’s watching, but kinda wishes Harry was watching from all sides at once.

“Bend forward?”

Harry slowly and obligingly faceplants Eggsy’s arse. Eggsy wiggles in his face, brushing his tail back and forth across Harry’s nose.

"Is that… fur? Fluff? What part of you is that…? I think I need another feel."

And Eggsy’s suspicion that Harry knows exactly what part of him it’s attached to is confirmed because Harry bites him on the bared arse cheek. Not hard, not painful, just the scrape of teeth as he takes a big happy mouthful of muscle and then softly kisses, as though that would heal a bruise. As though Eggsy would really want it to.

"So that's a tail."

"Correct."

"Is that tail attached to a plug?"

"Nope. But it is sewn on to a thong if that's any consolation." He knows exactly how Harry feels about thongs so it definitely is.

Harry leans forward again and rubs his cheek across Eggsy’s arse and Eggsy can feel the slightest prickle of stubble grazing over the skin, making it all warm and tingly. He’s tempted to put his hands down on the table and get comfortable because if he moves just right, sits Harry’s nose in between his cheeks, he knows Harry would just get stuck in, and he’s dexterous enough to work round a thong. Fuck it, he’d bust out of the hand ties in a second if Eggsy said  _ you know what, fuck this, you wanna eat me out since you’re already there? _

So he pulls away just a little. This is about Harry. Who must have guessed by now, because Eggsy reckons he’d know if there were a whole list of fantasies that required tails.

"I think… may I have a feel up the top end?"

Eggsy shuffles back and ducks his head to draw the point of an ear - awkward, granted - up Harry’s chest before settling back on his lap, ducking his head to let Harry’s face meet the ears, not like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s expecting. He’s not worried. From here he can kiss Harry’s neck, fumble his shirt buttons open with gloved fingers Harry loves the feel of against his smooth, damp chest.

“Oh, Eggsy,” - it’s big and dramatic on the preface, like Eggsy’s bought him a Lamborghini, but some of that might be the nibble to his neck - “Have you made yourself a bunny for me?”

Definitely the right choice, from the way he says it. Eggsy stands up as he pulls the blindfold loose so that Harry can get the full picture.

“Tah dahh.” 

He gives Harry a long moment to drink it in. The custom-made black corset, with a lustre of glitter in the pile that makes it shine like a galaxy in the light. The broad iridescent ribbon trimming the corset and crossing tightly down the back. The sheer black stockings he agonized for fifteen minutes before shaving his fucking legs for, tightly tucked around his thighs by their thick elasticated tops. The gloves, set around the wrists with affected jewelled cuffs - because that's a thing apparently - that match the bendy satin ears on his head and the posing-pouch thong that's decidedly too tight now, with the puff of white tail behind him. All accented with the shimmering body dust that’s streaked where Harry’s been licking it off . “What do you reckon?”

“I _reckon_ if I tried to describe you to anyone they’d think I was delusional. You look like sin itself.”

“Rox has seen it. Took a couple pictures for you. I don’t think it has that effect on anyone else.”

He’s so glad he’s nailed it. Harry’s been waiting a long time: spent a lot of time in the circles that went to the playboy clubs in the eighties, apparently, was suitably awed by the pin-balanced luxurious tackiness of it all but spent every bloody moment ruing the conspicuous absence of any beautiful boys in silly little outfits. Even went to the mansion once, and ended up copping off with one of the porters out of sheer desperation. What a different time he’d have had, if there’d been well paid and achingly flirtatious eye candy for him, too? Eggsy is so, so happy to be that eye candy. 

"You're unreal."

"Absolutely all real. And all yours." Because that's the important bit, ain't it - that this bunny is for Harry to do as he pleases with. "Brought you your drink and everything."

"And all these other useful things." Harry's hand trails- electric sharp, somehow- up the inside of Eggsy's knee, his inner thigh, to brush up over the bulge in his silky pants. Eggsy drops back against the table and spreads his knees to invite him in. "You'll forgive me if I skip the drink?"

"Yeah, course. Wait a minute, when did you get your hands out?"

"Oh, about an hour and a half ago, just in case." As if it matters. Harry's thumbs press into Eggsy’s skin over his hipbones and work their way just under the bottom of the corset. "Would you like me to still be tied?"

"Oh nah, fuck it. You played along nicely." Those hands grip beautifully, the squeeze a counterpoint to the gentle pinch of the corset and the pressure of the headband behind Eggsy’s ears. "Happy Valentine’s."

Harry's answer is a very pleasing growl as he gets about sucking the last of the flavoured body powder off Eggsy's collarbone, the top swell of his pecs. The edge of the corset comes just above his nipples which makes it all feel weird and amazingly, wonderfully naughty. Especially the way Harry bites and licks there, trying to get down inside, like even these few inches of Eggsy’s skin are a forbidden treat… Eggsy’s buzzing all over, his cock throbbing, body clenching with need. This was a brilliant idea. 

Once they've both groaned at the lovely frustration of not being able to get under the corset easily, Harry turns Eggsy around, and starts kissing over the bared curves of his arse cheeks again. Pulls the thong aside to dive in and finds the bar of metallic purple silicone Eggsy had almost forgotten about until he got excited and tensed up.

"Darling, but you said-"

"I said the tail weren't on a plug. Didn't say there wasn’t a plug involved."

With not a word about the cheek or the semantics, Harry slips it out and replaces it with his lubed fingers straight away: three, when the work’s been more than done for two and though he’d adjusted to the constant fullness of the plug, the firm pressure of clever fingertips makes Eggsy’s head swim. Fuck, Harry always knows exactly how and where to touch to make Eggys’s body want more, and it’s so sudden but he feels like they’ve been playing for hours, and he’s about ready to beg.

This one doesn’t go like that, though, so he squirms out, pushes Harry back to sitting on the chair and unzips him to messily fist lube over his cock. Eggsy should get on his knees, really, make a big show off sucking Harry off but what with the ears, he’s not sure Harry will last for that and besides, he’s aching for a proper fuck himself now. There’s a mess of kissing and grasping hands as Eggsy shuffles forwards, lines them up and sinks down on Harry’s cock.

It’s the same groan Harry does when he slips into a too-hot bath with an injury. Pained but grateful, relief at the feeling of sinking into that warmth… and the solid, hot pressure of his cock where Eggsy’s got used to the tease of flexible rubber makes stars form behind Eggsy’s eyelids. He eases himself up and down, face hot and thighs trembling with the strain of control but it's worth it for the swoop of pleasure and the soft little gasp from Harry when he manages a few thrusts in a row at something that almost feels like a rhythm. 

They should've gone for the office chair, if they were gonna do this one: that bounces and rocks but this…  _ oh,yes. _ The arches of Eggsy’s feet find the struts joining the legs of the chair that give him the perfect leverage to almost stand up and sink easily back down on Harry's cock.

“Fuck yeah.”

_ That _ 's what they need. Eggsy loops his arms around Harry's shoulders; Harry gets a good grip on Eggsy’s waist and helps him ride, smooth and easy. It's slick and sickly-good, Harry's face pressed into Eggsy's neck and shoulder, biting and sucking and sighing against the sensitive skin. And for what might have been a long, savouring encounter this is taking off bloody quick and Eggsy’s not the least bit upset about it. His dick is aching in the wet confines of the satin pants and Harry paws at him, tries to get under the side, fails, eventually puts both hands to side of the thong over Eggsy's left leg and fucking snaps the strap in half. 

Freed, Eggsy's cock bounces between them as Harry's hands help him move up and down, faster and harder on each thrust and Eggsy can barely breathe, can't quite credit how he feels, whether either of them are going to get there as quick as it seems like they might but it feels way too good to stop. 

Until a sudden splintering crack, and Eggsy’s foot rams full force into the floor and Harry's cock feels like it's just gone through one of Eggsy’s organs, _fucking hell._

"Ohhh no don’t tell me this is an antique or something."

"As if I fucking care. Are you alright?"

Eggsy looks down, winded, but at least there's no shard of wood sticking in his foot or anything. Barely a scrape, might not even have laddered his stockings. 

"Yeah. Chair's fucked. Think you've bruised my fucking… pancreas or something, _jesus._ "

Harry frowns at the implied pain and the biology before he catches the compliment in Eggsy’s dazed grin. Still, he eases them apart and off the chair before it collapses altogether.

"Up on the table." It takes a moment to sink in, because Eggsy’s expecting to be invited to take it upstairs, but he turns back to see the grin on Harry’s glitter powder shimmery lips. He almost looks high, like it’s Scarface and he’s just done a faceful of sparkly coke. "Might as well bugger the whole suite.”

Not even over it but up, until he’s laying flat on the polished surface, and Eggsy can just imagine the picture he makes: the powdered pale of his skin and glimmer of the black velvet against the rich dark red of the wood. All the bends of the corset waist and the ears, and Eggsy puts his arms up by his head, spreads his legs so Harry can step between them.

But Harry only slips what’s left of Eggsy’s tail-thong off.

"Legs together." Eggsy does as he’s told and Harry pushes them up to a right angle: Eggsy's feet pointed at the ceiling, arse right at the edge of the table. He kisses Eggsy’s around ankle bones, the arches of his feet, the joint of his big toe. It's never been totally obvious if Harry’s got a feet thing he tries not to let on or if it's just the effect of the stockings, which Harry trails teasing fingers along the long seam, right up Eggsy’s extended leg until it glides onto the exposed skin just under the cusp of his arse cheek.  "That’s so beautiful. So Elegant."

Eggsy’s craning his neck trying to keep looking at Harry, so he flops back to stare at the ceiling.

"Its murder on my fucking hamstrings, is what it is."

But he forgets that when Harry lines up and presses into him in a long smooth slide. There’s no pain there, just the pinch in the back of his legs that’s worth it for the way Harry looks down at him… for the way Harry can take both Eggsy’s ankles together in one hand, if he's honest, so the other is free to roam all over him, to trace over the boning of the corset and hold his arm down to the table by the elbow. 

"I'll massage them for you later. You look exquisite." 

Harry puts the gentlest pressure on his legs, folds Eggsy back just the tiniest touch more so that he can put his hips flush all the way flat against Eggsy’s arse 

"Oh  _ shit." _

“Mmm.”

He could bend his knees and make it easier but Harry's right as usual, Eggsy's straight legs and pointed toes - what? it makes the muscle stretch easier - look amazing up against Harry's shoulder, and Harry starts to move, and Eggsy can’t breathe. Can’t breathe because he’s bent in half, can’t breathe because it feels so good and Harry's already fucking him so deep it doesn't matter that Eggsy's cock is sandwiched between them, its dribbling all over the velvet because Harry's so far past his prostate it's just a constant throbbing pressure that almost makes him feel sick except it’s amazing, the too-big ecstasy turning loops in his belly. It's too much, too fast, too good and Eggsy can't do anything but lay there and take it. 

Harry wraps his arm around Eggsy’s thighs and pulls him closer still; panting helplessly, Eggsy can’t help but choke out "god you're  _ so deep"  _ and Harry can’t answer other than a groan: his hair’s in his face, his jaw's slack, he’s so beautiful and Eggsy feels so suffocatingly full he thinks he might pass out. Eggsy shifts, the little that he can with his hips , to try to give something back, or to get Harry’s cock to exactly where it feels so fucking good except he can’t make out the edges of sensation now, it’s all this hot liquid feeling like fire under his skin, up his spine, pleasure stuck thick like jelly round all his senses.

Just when he feels like he can’t take it, like he might have to tap out before Harry actually fucks the soul out of his body, Harry pulls Eggsy’s ankles apart, manhandles him into a nice spread wide on the table, and all that pent up pleasure folds out into something beautiful. With his body relaxed, the bliss is freed to sweep up him in great tingling waves, higher and brighter with Harry absolutely nailing the angle on every thrust.

Eggsy grits his teeth. It's almost unbearable, teetering on the edge of orgasm, but Harry knows just the moment to take Eggsys cock in hand and bring it all together. 

"That's it, darling, you going to come all over that lovely outfit for me?"

Put it like that, of course he is. Eggsy just bites his lip, arches his back and lets it hit him.   


His senses zero back in from heaven to feel the come spurting up  over his body, spots of it hitting the table; he thinks a bit hits him on the chin and of course Harry goes in to kiss that off, still going for just a few more shaky hard thrusts before he freezes still and Eggsy feels Harry pulsing come deep into the space hes fucked open, his breath ragged and wet against Eggsy’s neck.

“Well,” Harry manages eventually, peeling himself away to lay flat by Eggsy’s side - and don’t think Eggsy misses the way his eyes widen when the table creaks, but it holds and Harry’s obviously too fucked out to care. "That rather knocks my Valentine's present for you into a cocked hat."

"Oh yeah?" Eggsy sits up, and regrets it pretty quick but he’s lost his faith in their dining set and wants to take his weight off it sharpish. "What you got me?"

"Well, it’s less a gift than a little service of my own. All the updates for your Playstation games have been downloading for…" he looks at his watch "almost four hours, and I'd planned on drawing you a bath and offering to order your favourite Thai even before we worked up an appetite. The rest might have to wait until morning." 

"You old romantic." But Harry knows he means it, that he has well and truly cornered the way to his man’s heart… especially if he’s serious about the morning, because Eggsy loves a first-thing fumble and a shag out of Harry before midday would be a truly special and rare sort of gift. Besides, he’s knackered now. "Sounds fucking perfect. How about we raincheck the bath for later, too? I’m gonna go get out of … all of this.”

“Let me help you, at least.” And the way Harry savours unlacing the corset, rolling the stockings down and slipping free the grips securing the ears into Eggsy’s hair, leaving him fully naked in the dining room, is not quite how Eggsy imagined it going down but it’s quiet and lovely, and he skips off upstairs - alright, limps, he’s going to be feeling that for a day or two - with the distinct sense his surprise was received even better than he’d hoped. 

And Harry's a man of his word in that the takeaway has turned up and all the games are ready to go by the time Eggsy has showered and got into boxers and a t shirt, but there are also two dozen gorgeous red roses in a bouquet waiting on the coffee table. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. If you enjoyed, please consider leaving me a little note or a heart just here.
> 
> Please also come find men o [twitter ](https://www.twitter.com/agentsnakebite) and [ tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/randomactsofviolence).  
> \- because I love to chat fic and am always considering prompts and ideas.
> 
> Much love.xx


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